


Lost and Found

by Skyepilot



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Flirting, New SHIELD, Rebuilding, Romance, Shipscuses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-01
Updated: 2014-06-01
Packaged: 2018-02-03 01:33:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1726334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyepilot/pseuds/Skyepilot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shipexcuses, but also just thinking about what new SHIELD would work like and why Phil, really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost and Found

"Ian Quinn said something to me about SHIELD once," she began.

"Mmm?" Coulson said, sitting behind his seat in his Director's office at the Playground.

He was listening, but not really. His eyes were on the desk and his finger sliding across its top, flipping through files.

"He said that SHIELD picked up people without families, with criminal backgrounds. Desperate people with nothing left to lose."

"Do you believe that?" he asked.

So he was listening.

"I don't have family," she said. "You don't either. There's Ward, too. We both have criminal backgrounds, technically."

He looked up at her, crossed his hands in front of him.

"Ring of truth to it?" he asked.

"You asked me to think about my role. What part I wanted to play."

He tapped the display closing the file and stood up, walked around the desk to her.

"Rebuilding our database is pretty important," he said.

"I know that," she said. "But that's not what I'm talking about here. C'mon, D.C., you know that."

"Can we just go back to A.C.?" he asked, pained. A bit pleading, even.

Skye gave him the tiniest smile.

"Phil?" he asked. "I'll give you Phil at this point. Please. Take it."

Her eyes were locked on him, mirthful.

"Phil," she grinned, trying it out slowly.

He was thinking about... What *was* he thinking about? He was getting harder to read these days.

"Nope," she decided.

"Whoa, staring contest!" said Koenig from the door.

Skye and Coulson suddenly started moving.

"Yes, maybe we can finish this some other time?" Skye asked, grabbing her touchpad from the chair.

"You know, I could really use a coffee, been sitting at my desk all day," said Coulson to nobody.

They both ran into Koenig who was just standing at the door observing all.

"You two," he said, deadly serious. "Don't think I don't see," he added, pointing his fingers at his eyes and then at them.

"See what?" Coulson asked.

"Your connection," Koenig said. 

Skye looked over at Coulson.

"You were the only two injected with the GH-325," he said conspiratorily. "You guys can read each other's *minds*."

"Uh huh," Coulson nodded. He looked at Skye. "Coffee?"

"Sure," she said.

 

*****

Skye was laughing. "Koenig, where does he come up with this stuff?" she asked, sitting in a chair in the cafeteria.

"Your coffee, madam," said Coulson, setting the glass mug down in front of her.

"I think Koenig has a very active imagination and a lot of *me* time," said Coulson.

"Thanks." She stared at it. "This isn't a coffee," she said. "What is it?"

Coulson sat down in the seat next to her with his own cup, gave her a disbelieving look and sipped his, a look of pure gratification on his face.

"Coffee is black and smells burnt and comes in a white mug with coffee stains on it, and is poured by someone named Rhoda."

She picked it up and sipped it.

"Wow, my boss and my own personal barista," she said. "I win."

"It's a Cortado."

"Well, aren't you just full of surprises," she said. "Bet you bake perfect croissants, too."

"Don't have the patience for that sort of thing."

"We should put that in the new SHIELD requirements. Baking test to determine patience and fortitude."

"Would probably make people line up for evaluations," he admitted.

"See? That's how SHIELD should do incentives," she said.

"So, the Welcome Wagon?" he smirked, getting back on subject they'd started earlier.

"I'm thinking about the idea of SHIELD as more than, a shield, I guess."

"Okay," he said.

"What if it's a family?"

Coulson took another very long sip of his coffee, looked doubtful and probably trying to find a nice way to express his complete doubts about this as a concept at all.

"Are you saying SHIELD isn't your family?" she asked when he didn't reply.

"Not the same thing," he said.

"These are the kinds of things that rotted SHIELD from within," she said. "It might have made the agency effective in a lot of ways, but it also destroyed it."

"I dunno, Skye," he started. "I've seen situations. People's kids held hostage. Their husbands killed in front of them." He was thinking about May. 

"Mike Peterson, Skye," he reminded her.

"Yeah, let's talk about Mike Peterson for a second," Skye said. "He had no support system. He was living on the fringes, barely making it. But, he had talent and he had the will. And he wanted to do good," she leaned forward, exciting herself by where she was going with this.

"And then they used Ace to ruin all of that," said Coulson, sadly. He still felt like he had personally failed Mike Peterson on some level.

"Imagine if SHIELD had acted like Ace was their own flesh and blood. If Ace was just as important to them as Mike Peterson, or the mission. Would HYDRA have ever been able to touch him? I doubt that," she said, sitting back, lifting her coffee.

"Fury was like a father to me in many ways," Coulson admitted. "He was a father to a lot of people."

"Yeah, if your father kept you in the dark and made you do things you didn't like all the time, for reasons known only known to himself. Father of the Year Award!" Skye said.

Coulson was frowning at her. That had struck a nerve.

"I'm sorry, I know you admire him," she said, touching his arm. "I shouldn't make fun. It's just. I think," she was trying to say this the right way, so it sounded exactly how she felt it, "If I had to chose between you and Fury, I would choose you. He made the right decision."

Coulson stared over at her.

"He wants you to do it differently. He sees what I see," she said. "Which makes me hate him slightly less. I think," now that she considered it.

"Second chances," he said. "I've been getting a lot of those. I used to want a family, you know," he began. "Entertained the idea, anyway."

Skye knew he was thinking of that Cellist. Or, maybe it was someone else even further back? Someone she knew nothing about.

"What stopped you?" Skye asked.

"Dying," he said. "And, fear."

She nodded. "I know what that's like," she said. "Living in a van, moving around, hacking people from a distance. It's a way of keeping yourself safe. Or, at least, thinking you are."

Coulson smiled slightly and got up, taking his empty cup and grabbing hers, walking to the sink.

She sat there and heard the sounds of tiding up behind her and sighed. That was probably about as far as he was going to let her get for now. 

She stood and took her touchpad off the table.

He wiped his hands on the towel and came back towards her.

"So, what changed?" he asked.

"I met you," she replied, as if there could be any other answer.

 

****

"Are you sure about this, sir?" May asked him from the other end of the phone.

"Yeah," Coulson replied, looking through his sunglasses at Lola parked in the dirt road next to the cabin. He'd traded his suit in for a plaid flannel.

"Doing things differently this time around," he continued.

"I don't think that's *quite* what Fury had in mind when he said that, Phil," she said. Probably was rolling her eyes, too.

"So you think this is a really bad idea?" he asked.

The trees had changed colors. Everything was golden and warm.

He heard May sigh. "I don't know what I think any more."

"Good," he said cheerfully. "That's a start." He meant it.

"Three days," said May. "And then I come after you. You know I don't play well with others."

"Thanks for the warning," he said. "You could just embrace the change?" No reply. "Or not."

He started walking back to the cabin when he saw the pair of fishing poles appear on the porch. He liked the sound of the leaves rustling underneath his boots.

"Plenty to do while I'm gone," he said. "But if you all want to just take it easy, then, take it easy."

"Have fun," she said, flatly. "Try not to strain anything."

"Okay, hanging up now," he said, shutting off the phone. Sheesh.

He took the sunglasses off and tucked them neatly in the shirtpocket. Went up the front steps to the cabin porch, looked at the two fishing poles, the tackle box. 

"Tell me again why we didn't do this sooner?"

He looked over to see Skye leaning against the door frame, watching him. She was wearing that red dress. From when he first met her. 

Lots of firsts for him in the last few days. It had been a long car ride with those legs in the seat next to him.

"We're here now," he said. He didn't have a sufficient answer for the other thing. Protocols? Busy? HYDRA? Becauseyou'reanidiotPhi?

He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulled her towards him. Her hands slid up his arms and ended around his neck.

"And you in flannel?" she said. "I didn't think anything could top the suit."

"You like the suit, huh?" he asked.

"Totally," she replied.

"I like..." he began, but didn't finish. He kissed her instead. It wasn't the first, but they were getting more intimate, more personal, with every kiss.

Skye smiled at him, laughed when he swung her up into his arms, headed inside the cabin.

"What happened to fishing?" she asked.

"Fishing?" he asked, incredulous. 

"When were you planning on doing any fishing?"


End file.
